


Turn the Page

by SoulSurvivor_36



Series: The Lives We Make for Ourselves [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dream Sex, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-17 22:27:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7288534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulSurvivor_36/pseuds/SoulSurvivor_36
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heaven Can't Wait, S9:E06.</p>
<p>Dean has run off to help Castiel with a hunt, leaving Kevin and Sam to do research to translate the Angel Tablet.  Sam decides to call Delilah to come help out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn the Page

**Author's Note:**

> In this story, Delilah is introduced to the bunker. I describe it in as greatest detail as I can (I love the bunker). My descriptions and layout come from a meticulous analysis of the bunker as it is featured from Season 8 to Season 10 and some things are extrapolated such as the actual location of the shower room since they haven't explicitly shown. I've yet to figure out where they hide the damn garage though...
> 
> Also, I hope you forgive me for giving Sam his own car. He needs a set of wheels for when Dean is out with Baby and I do so love the look of the `71 Charger.
> 
> The title of the story and the lyrics come from Bob Seger's "Turn the Page"  
> Here's a link to Metallica's cover.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5DuRVp3S2Gc
> 
> I welcome, as always, any and all feedback, and I hope you enjoy :-)

_Here I am, on a road again_

_There I am, on the stage_

_Here I go, playing star again_

_There I go, turn the page_

 

Delilah sat in the main room of Hale Library, reading over her notes.  She just got out of a meeting with Professor Linder, who taught a history of witchcraft course and she was reviewing their discussion.  She sat back in her chair and rolled her head back and forth trying to loosen the muscles in her neck.  She tugged again, for what felt like the hundredth time, on the bottom of her vest, hating the dressy clothes she chose to wear to the interview.  One of the benefits of working away from customers was that the bosses didn’t really care about a dress code, normally she wore jeans and a t-shirt or a comfortable flannel or plaid, as opposed to today’s matching black and white pin striped linen pants and vest with a white collared shirt.  She even wore heels!  She glanced at the time on her tablet, feeling a little self-conscious that she was sitting there instead of at work.  She had called in sick that morning in order to be able to meet with the professor.  And it wasn’t the first time either.  In the past two weeks, since the case in Enid, she had missed work four times so she could pursue her research into the supernatural.  Luckily, so far, her boss didn’t seem to notice anything peculiar.

The confrontation with the Shaman had got her curious about the different types of witchcraft and she was parsing through folklore of various origins to see if she could classify witches by the type of magic they practice.  She had hoped her meeting with Linder would help her establish a timeline and see if she was on the right track, but the Professor was not very forthcoming and seemed to not take her too seriously.

Delilah sat back in her chair, looking around at the historic campus library of Kansas State University.  There were a few students scattered among the tables, working on various different assignments in the coolness of the hall.  Delilah loved the gothic style architecture; cathedral ceiling, arched windows, carved columns and frescoes.  Delilah breathed in the familiar smell of old books and she felt at peace in an environment that wasn’t so sterile as an office filled with cubicles and computer screens.

Delilah’s phone started vibrating in her pocket, startling her out of her reverie.  She reached in and pulled it out staring at the name on her caller ID: Sam.  Before it could go to voicemail Delilah answered whispering so she wouldn’t disturb the others in the hall.

“Hello?” she said, grabbing her messenger bag and stuffing her notes and research inside.

“Delilah, hey!  It’s Sam… Winchester.  Is this a bad time?” Delilah cringed at how loud his voice sounded, even if it was just in her ear.  She was already getting stares from some of the people at nearby tables.

“No, it’s great, just give me a second.” She finished picking up her things and rushed out, headed for the exit.  The bright late June sunlight was warm after the coolness of the library and Delilah couldn’t resist turning her face into the rays and closing her eyes. In her normal voice, she spoke into her phone, “Hey Sam!  Sorry about that, I was getting some major evil glares from the people in the library.  What’s up?”  On the other end of the line Sam cleared his throat and laughed slightly uncomfortably,

“Well, I’m not sure how to ask this, but uh, we’ve kinda been knocking our heads on something for a while now, and we hit a brick wall.”

Wondering where that was going she commented, “Sounds painful.  What can I do?”

“We’re trying to translate a document, but Dean had to take a job.  We could really use an extra set of eyes.”

Delilah frowned, thinking about her meeting and the things she had been hoping to do with the rest of her sick day. But this was Sam, he wouldn’t have called unless he really needed help.  Delilah felt her insides glow.  She had been on her own for so long, she had forgotten what it was like to feel needed.  Sam interrupted her thoughts,

“Delilah?  Are you still there?”

“Yes!  Sorry, I got distracted.  Of course I can help out.  Where should I meet you?”

“That’s great Delilah, thanks!  I’ll text you the address, let me know when you’re twenty minutes out and I’ll go meet you.”

“Ok then!  I guess I’ll see you in a bit,” Delilah said, a little uncertainly as she hit the end button.  Where was she going to end up now?  Work was definitely not going to like her ditching again.

A few seconds later, her phone vibrated again and she checked her texts.  Sam had sent her the address for a café in Smith Center, Kansas.  She did a quick search on her phone and found it was a couple hours north from where she was.  She replied to the message with her arrival time and set off towards the lot where she had parked her car.

 

Delilah pulled into the parking lot of a small brick building.  It was mid afternoon and the parking lot was empty.  She looked around skeptically at the deserted road surrounded by fields.  A little further up there was the small town of Smith Center – the kind of place you miss if you blink at the wrong time, and she wondered what she was doing there.  Sam must be holed up in a motel not too far if he asked her to meet him there.

She shrugged and turned off the engine to the Rust Bucket, grabbed her bag and wandered into the café.  It was a quaint place with a retro style counter and a dining area in the back.  Delilah scanned the place quickly and didn’t see Sam, so she took one of the empty seats at the counter and settled in to text him.

A friendly waitress, maybe in her late twenties, asked her what she would have, so she ordered her usual hot chocolate, no whipped cream.  The waitress returned with her order just as the door opened and Sam walked in.  The waitress looked up and beamed a smile right at him.

“Hey there Sam!  What can I get ya?”  Delilah watched as the waitress batted her eyelashes at him.

“Hey Jen, just a coffee thanks,” he told her coming to stand close to Delilah.

“Coming right up,” she answered cheerfully, but glancing at Delilah with a calculating look.

Delilah wondered if the waitress had a thing for Sam, she certainly seemed to think Delilah was an issue.  Sam sat down on the stool next to her.

“Thanks for coming, I know it must be awkward with work and all,” he said.  Delilah blushed thinking about work again.

“Well, it just so happens I wasn’t at work, actually,” she told him.  Sam raised his eyebrows expectantly, so she continued, “I had a meeting with a professor at Kansas State this morning.  I asked him some questions about my research,” Sam’s eyes brightened and he smiled at her.

“What kind of research?  Are you still looking for rugarus?” he teased her.  Delilah laughed, getting another glare from the waitress across the room.

“Witchcraft actually,” Sam’s face fell and he suddenly looked worried, “Don’t worry, I’m not hunting or anything, I’m just gathering information, sorting the types and practices and things like that.” He didn’t look convinced, she went on, “Really Sam, I’m being careful.”

“Just be careful who you talk to about this stuff.  Witches can be nasty when they feel threatened.”  Delilah started laughing loudly at that,

“As if anybody would ever perceive me as a threat.” 

Sam just stared at her looking concerned. Delilah decided to change the topic.  “So, where’s this document you need help with?”  Sam turned to his coffee and took a mouthful.

“It’s back at the bunker,” he told her.  Delilah’s eyebrows shot up.

“The bunker?  What is that, a super secret base of operations for hunters?” she mocked, but Sam laughed, looking a little sheepish,

“Actually, that’s pretty accurate.  Sounds a little ridiculous though when you say it like that.”

He took another swig of his coffee and something about the movement made Delilah look at him a little more closely.  The skin around his eyes was tight, like maybe he hadn’t been getting enough sleep, and although he was smiling and laughing, it didn’t quite look genuine.  Overall he looked exhausted.  Delilah was suddenly glad she had decided to come out to help, if Sam was looking this ragged, they must’ve been working around the clock.

Delilah gulped down the rest of her hot chocolate and put the cup down.  She slapped the counter and pushed back her chair.

“Alright then!  To the bat cave, Sam!  Let's get the research on.”  Sam smiled again.

“Ok then.  Let’s go.”

Delilah and Sam paid for their drinks and she followed him out the door.  Parked next to her car was a classic Dodge Charger, looking a little worse for wear.  The paint was all faded and rubbed out in some spots, but the body was clearly still in good condition.  Nothing a little TLC couldn’t fix.  Sam said she could hop in with him.  She left the Rust Bucket in the parking lot and climbed into the Charger.  They drove back through the town and up the interstate, the engine rumbling along.

They passed through another little town and when fields gave way to woods, Delilah figured they had a ways to go but Sam turned onto a small narrow road that turned into the woods.  Delilah watched as the trees grew denser until the road ended with a cement barrier.  Sam pulled up and parked the car beside what looked like an old drainage tunnel. It was bricked up, with a door in the middle.  Directly above it on a hill was an old decrepit looking plant, with broken windows and rusty trails from runoff water.  The whole thing had a sinister, abandoned look to it that did not comfort Delilah one bit.

“Uh, Sam?” She looked at him unsure.

“Yeah, I know it doesn’t look like much from the outside, but you’ll see.”

He turned off the engine and stepped out of the car.  Delilah did the same, slinging her bag across her shoulders.  She looked around at the wooded area and the factories dotted along the other side of the river far below the broken up road.  Then she looked again at the ominous looking cement building looming over the bricked up tunnel.  Delilah felt a chill down her spine and her nervous system was sending warning signals left right and center.

“Seriously Sam, I feel like I just walked into a horror movie,” Delilah stated, falling in step behind him as he moved towards the door.

“Trust me, this is probably the safest place on the continent.  It’s warded against almost everything you could think of, and completely off the map.”  Delilah looked at Sam still sceptical.

“You can ward against creatures?” Sam pulled out a strange looking key from his pocket and jammed it into a circular pot light.

“Yeah, most of them.  We use symbols, and sigils mostly, some spell work and some materials that naturally repel certain creatures.”

“Oh, I see.”

Delilah nodded her head, not sure she understood everything but with the Winchesters involved, she figured nothing could surprise her anymore.  She was wrong.

Sam swung the door open and gestured for Delilah to step through.  In front of her was a metal grill staircase leading down a dark stairwell.  She made her way down the steps, her heels echoing around her dizzyingly.  At the bottom of the stairs there was another door.  Sam reached around her and pulled it open.  As she stepped through, Delilah could not help the look of shock that plastered itself to her face.  Her eyes and mouth opened wide as she looked around and her brain registered the information being relayed.

The room around her was dimly lit by vertical panels on the walls.  She and Sam were standing on a mezzanine style balcony that lined the front of the room with stairs leading down on her right.  She walked up to the iron railing and looked down into a room with a lit up table displaying a map of the world.  All along the base of the walls were ancient computers with blinking lights and dials and various other devices whose purposes she could only guess.  A slight humming permeated the air all around her.

Sam moved to the side and walked down the steps, taking off his brown jacket and draping it on the back of one of the chairs around the world table.  Delilah followed him down, clutching the strap of her bag.  She reached the bottom and continued to look around her, completely awestruck.  The curved wall on her right was a blue green tempered window in panels and the light shining behind it gave the room an eerie underwater look.  The walls were smooth white blocks on top and black from the middle to the ground and she could see three arched gateways leading off the room.  On either side, the arches led to white walled hallways with grey brick on the bottom half but ahead she saw a warm yellow glow of familiarity and she felt herself pulled up the three steps into the next room.

It was all wooden floors and brick walls and tall columns.  It was similar to so many libraries she had spent time in that she immediately felt right at home.  In the middle of the room, three oak tables with chairs were lined up with lamps in their middles.  Along the walls, there were shelves with various artefacts and weapons and books – so many books.  At the other end of the room she could just make out, partially concealed behind a thick curtain, what looked like a telescope, what it could be used for, she couldn’t figure though since they were in the woods and underground.

As Delilah’s shock dissipated, she became aware of two people talking.  She looked at the middle table and noticed for the first time, that there was someone sitting there with books and papers spread out around him.  Sam was sitting on the corner.  Both of them were looking right at her with grins on their faces.  Finally having caught her attention, Sam waved her over and she took the few steps to stand beside him.

“Delilah, this is Kevin.  Kevin meet Delilah,” Sam said gesturing to each of them in turn.

“Hi,” said Kevin with a small wave.

“Hey,” answered Delilah as she took a good look at him.

He was a small, slightly skinny Asian kid, certainly no more than 20.  He had messy dark hair and a sparsely growing beard and he had the same look around his eyes as Sam did, and as she had seen on so many college students around term end.

Delilah took one more glance around the room, looking for other faces.  Sam spoke next, “Dean’s not here,” he said.

“Yeah, ditched us for some wild goose chase with Castiel.”

“Castiel? Another hunter?” Delilah asked.  Kevin and Sam chuckled at that.

“That’s as good a way as any to describe him I guess,” said Sam.

Delilah nodded and glanced down at the papers spread out on the table.  The papers were full of a mixture of words and drawings and she frowned as she picked up one of the sheets.  “Is this cuneiform?”  Kevin looked from Delilah to Sam then nodded.  Delilah read the words _falling angels_ scribbled over some of the symbols and her eyes widened.  Sitting on the table, she saw a stone slab about the size of a book covered in strange symbols as well.  She reached for it, but Kevin pulled it out of her reach before she could take it.  She looked at him startled.

“Sorry,” he said, “It’s a reflex.”

Sam looked at her pensively.  “I think there are a few things we need to tell you before we can start work.”

Sam and Delilah pulled out chairs and joined Kevin sitting at the table.  The next half hour, Sam told her all about angels and what had happened in the past month since Metatron locked them out of Heaven.  He told her that Kevin was a prophet and was the only one who could translate the tablets, which were the written word of God.  Delilah listened in growing wonder at the repercussions of everything Sam told her.  This was so much bigger than a couple of creatures here and there.  The word of God?  Angels falling from the sky?  Then something clicked in her head.  She stopped Sam to ask him a question.

“Sam, what does it look like when an angel falls?”

“Um, well their wings burn on the way down so it kind of looks like bright lights falling to the ground.”

“Like shooting stars?” Delilah asked.  Sam agreed, and Delilah kept going, “So if all the angels fell at once, it would look like a meteor shower?  Worldwide?”

“Exactly,” Sam seemed impressed with her, giving her a smile again, then he continued, “We’ve been trying to deal with the consequences since May.  Which is why we need to read the tablet, to find a way to reverse the spell Metatron used to lock the angels out of Heaven so we can set things right.”

The colossal responsibility of what they needed to do hit Delilah like a ton of bricks.  She sat back in her chair.  Sam and Kevin watched her processing the information.  She had always imagined that there was something out there, something that would explain the world, and how it was created.  She figured when she discovered the existence of creatures that the explanation would be there.  Part of her research was fuelled by this idea, and now she finds out angels are a real thing, and that there is a God - an all powerful being who made all of this.  But if that were true, why would he let this Metatron kick all the angels out of Heaven?  That didn't make sense.

Delilah glanced up and saw Sam and Kevin looking at her again.  She shook herself and leaned over the table.

“Alright, where do we start?”

 

***

 

_But your thoughts will soon be wandering, the way they always do_

_When you're riding sixteen hours and there's nothing there to do_

_And you don't feel much like riding, you just wish the trip was through_

 

“Yeah, we’re almost through the texts over here, we’ve got nothing.”

Sam was talking to Dean on the phone.  Kevin was practically sleeping on the table, although his eyes continued to move back and forth over the lines of text in the books they were using, trying to decipher the cuneiform.

They had been up all night, drinking coffee after coffee to keep their eyes open.  When Sam’s phone rang, it was a welcome distraction.  Delilah stood up and stretched.  Some time after the second hour of sitting in her chair, she had caved and asked if she could borrow some more comfortable clothes.  Kevin lent her a pair of jogging pants and a sweatshirt, so she was looking a little rumpled, but was much happier.

“Needless to say we’re pretty burnt.”

Sam continued chatting with Dean.  Delilah wondered how his hunt was going and what kind of creature it was this time.

“I’m going to the washroom, I’ll be right back.”

Sam nodded to her then spoke into the phone. “Yeah, Delilah’s here… Well you ditched and we needed the manpower so I called her… Whatever Dean, she’s been more helpful than you.”

Delilah headed out to the entrance hall and into the hallway off the kitchen.  In the sixteen hours since she got to the bunker, she had pretty much figured out where all the essential rooms were; library, kitchen, bathroom – although shower room is more accurate.  The place looked more like a high school locker room, minus the lockers, than a bathroom.  She yawned as she headed in there. Once she relieved herself, she washed her hands and splashed some cold water onto her face, hoping it would help her wake up.  It really didn’t.  She headed back to the library yawning and stretching.  Sam was still on the phone.

“Crowley?” She saw Kevin straighten up and stare at Sam, “It’s worth a shot, I guess.”  Sam walked further towards the kitchen and Delilah sat back down at the table with Kevin.  He was looking upset.

“Who’s Crowley?” she asked him.

“A piece of shit scumbag demon we have locked in the dungeon.”

Kevin went back to trying to read the tablet.  Delilah blinked.  She had no idea how to process that last sentence.  Already dealing with the news about angels when she was fully rested had been quite the feat, now a demon?  A dungeon? What?  Delilah decided to try to focus on the Elamite again and ask Sam later.  Her mind kept wandering though and when she looked up, she noticed Kevin had hiked up his sleeves.  She saw the five pointed star surrounded by a ring of fire on his forearm.

“Nice ink, Kevin,” she told him.

He looked up at her and back down to his arm. “Oh, yeah.  I sometimes forget I have that.  Sam and Dean made me get it.  They have one too.”

“What, is it like an initiation or something?  Join the club, get a tattoo?”  Delilah thought it sounded rather silly.

“Yeah, no.  It’s an anti-possession sigil.  As long as this is on me, no demon can possess me.  It’s kinda necessary when…”

Delilah cut him off, “When you’re a hunter, right?”  Kevin looked her in the eye and spoke with such intensity she was taken aback.

“When you hang out with the Winchesters,” his voice was filled with emotion, almost like he was spitting venom.

Kevin went back to the tablet and Delilah started to think that maybe Kevin wasn’t there by choice.  Sam walked back into the room putting his cell back into his pocket.

“Well, Dean suggested we try asking Crowley to read the translations,” Sam told the two at the table.

“Of course he would.  Because Crowley’s been so helpful with everything else we asked him so far,” Kevin mumbled into his book.

“I think it’s worth a shot. Give me one of the pages, I’ll go test the waters,” Sam said.

Kevin quickly copied one of the lines of symbols he believed contained Metatron’s footnotes on the spell used to expel the angels on a fresh sheet of paper and handed it to Sam.  Sam took it, walked out of the library and down the hallway on the right.  Kevin didn’t move to follow him, so Delilah figured it was best to stay put as well.  She leaned back in the chair, put her foot up on the edge of the seat, propped the language encyclopedia on her knee and went back to trying to do what scholars had failed to do for the last few centuries.

Sam came back twenty minutes later looking pissed off.  Kevin didn’t even look up at him.

“Did he solve all our problems?”  he asked in a mocking tone.

Sam pursed his lips and didn’t bother answering.  He grabbed a book again, plopped himself down in a chair and scowled at the pages.  Delilah watched him a few moments, the strain around his hazel eyes visible even by lamplight, then she looked over at Kevin who had dark circles under his half closed eyes and she made a decision.  She slammed her book shut and dropped it loudly on the table startling the boys out of their foul moods.

“This is getting us nowhere.  We’re burnt out and shaky from too much coffee and if I don’t get some sleep soon, my brain is going to turn to complete mush.  I say we all just take a couple of hours to rest up, have some food, take a nice hot shower and we can tackle this again after lunch.

Sam and Kevin glanced at each other and looked back at Delilah.  Kevin closed his book too and put the tablet in his bag, Delilah just saw the edges of maybe another tablet in there.  Without saying a word, he got up and disappeared out a door she hadn't noticed, to the left of the giant telescope.  Delilah and Sam watched him close the door behind him, then she turned to Sam.

“Is it something I said?” she teased.  Sam laughed half heartedly.

“I think you’re probably right.  A little rest could be helpful,” he conceded as a jaw cracking yawn took hold of him and contorted his face.  “Follow me, I’ll get you settled in a room.”

Delilah followed Sam down the left passageway and past the kitchen.

“The Men of Letters, the people who built this place, designed it to accommodate any number of residents and travelling hunters.  Only problem is most of the rooms aren’t habitable right now, mouldy mattresses and such.”

“Ok, so is there a couch I can crash on?” Delilah asked.

“Not really no, but this is better, I promise.”

Delilah held back from making a comment as her mind jumped to conclusions and thought for a moment that he was going to suggest she sleep in his bed.  She scurried through ways to let him down easy.  Not that she was against a little fooling around, and not like she hadn’t thought about the tall, beast of a man in that way, but Sam didn’t strike her as the no commitment type and she did not want to complicate things.

Sam turned right, down another hallway and stopped in front of door number 11.  He turned the handle and opened the door to reveal a simple bedroom.  Delilah walked in, Sam following her.  The room was very simply decorated with weapons neatly organized and resting on nails on the walls.  A small light was on the desk by the left wall and casting a pale glow around the room.  There was also an old style typewriter and next to it a picture of a pretty blond with her arms around a young boy.  To the right, there was an old wooden framed, green leather couch that looked horribly uncomfortable and a dresser. The room was neat and tidy, the bed made military style and everything.  She turned to look at Sam. She was about to say something when his own words cut off all her crazy thoughts.

“Welcome to Dean’s room.  Not like he’s using it today.  Besides, it’s the only room we can put you in right now.  Is this ok?” he asked her.  Delilah was suddenly very glad she hadn’t said anything.  She finally un-knotted her tongue so she could answer.

“Uh, yeah.  It’s fine.  Thanks.”

“Alright, well you sleep tight.  We’ll get back at it in a few hours.  If you need anything, Kevin and I have rooms on the other side of the library.”

Delilah nodded and Sam turned around, walked out of the room and shut the door behind him.

On her own, in Dean’s room, Delilah looked around again. She noticed more personal touches that attracted her attention; she riffled through the vinyl collection and smiled at the Zepplin album, recognizing Dean in the music.  She felt like an intruder standing there.  She wondered how Dean would feel if he knew she was there.  She decided to put it out of her mind, it was just for a nap anyways.  She dropped her bag on the floor, took out her tablet and charger and plugged it in by the bed.  She stripped out of Kevin’s jogging pants and pulled off her bra dropping it in a pile by the bed.  She lifted the blankets and climbed in, settling herself in the center of the soft double mattress and laying her head on the pillow.  She pulled the blankets up to her chin and curled onto her side.  The mattress was really comfortable, giving her support in the right places.  She figured she would be falling asleep in no time, then she took a deep breath and was hit full blast by the scent of Dean.  She could smell him on the pillow, a spicy, musky smell that stirred her awake deep inside.  She breathed him in and suddenly wished that he was there with her – oh the things she’d like to do to that man.  Delilah sighed and nuzzled deeper into the pillow.  A few minutes later, she fell asleep.

 

She had the strangest dream.  In it, Dean grabbed her and told her to run, looking panicked.  Her heart racing, she started running away but only ended up crashing into his arms.  She looked into his green eyes filled with cold fury and suddenly, they were naked together and writhing in bed, kissing, Dean’s tongue exploring her mouth.  She moaned as his  hands moved all over her body and she clung to him desperately as they pushed against each other.  Then, she was running again, down the white halls of the bunker.  Her heart rate was elevated and she got lost in endless hallways.  She kept looking behind her at something she couldn’t see that was pursuing her.  Then, she ran into someone.  She turned around to find she was in Dean’s arms again, and it terrified her.  He pushed her to the ground and walked up to her slowly as she tried to scramble away from him.  He reached down towards her, the look in his eyes making the gesture into a threat.  In a flash, they were in bed again and she was riding him, pushing down hard on his cock, feeling her climax getting closer, her whole body flushed with the heat of passion.  Then her heart was pounding out of her chest, pleasure turned to fear, as she backed into a corner.  Dean moved up to her and from behind him, he pulled out a long jagged blade.  He drove the blade right at her heart and Delilah sat up in bed panting and sweating.

She had no idea what had just happened.  She looked around and saw that she was still in Dean’s room.  She had fallen asleep with the lamps still on and she was desperately trying to slow her wildly beating heart.  What the hell kind of dream was that?  Obviously somewhere along the line her brain had snapped and took all the crazy stuff that had been happening and all the anxiety she had been feeling and just… blew up!  She hadn’t had a dream that intense in a long time; she could still feel everything, the emotions, the feel of him on her skin.  Delilah fell back onto the pillow and tried to calm her hectic heart rate.

Finally starting to calm down, she looked at her tablet and saw it was just about 11:30.  She decided to get up and see if she could take a shower.  She put the jogging pants back on and wandered out the door and into the hallway.  She turned left and headed towards the kitchen.  She turned down the hall and moved past the door towards the shower room.  She pushed open the door and called out a hello, waiting to hear if anyone was using the room.  Nothing quite like walking in on someone showering…  Quite the shower room fantasy.

She found a towel on a shelf and quickly stripped and proceeded to let the hot water wash away all the anxiety and worries.  She always felt so much better after a good hot shower.  She stuck her head under the stream and felt it relieve her tense neck muscles.

Fully relaxed, she turned off the shower and dried herself with the towel.  Having nothing else to wear, she put the clothes back on and rubbed the water out of her hair.  She draped the towel over one of the sinks lining one wall and looked at herself in one of the mirrors.  She was looking completely dishevelled with her damp hair already going wavy and all over the place.  Oh well, not much she could do about it without a hair brush.  She resolved to keep an emergency overnight bag in her car from now on.  She bent low over the sink and scooped some water into her mouth to rinse it.

Having done all that she could, Delilah walked out of the shower room and headed for the kitchen to see what she could scrounge up to eat.  Sam had beaten her to the punch.  He was standing at the counter preparing sandwiches.  He had changed into a rust coloured plaid shirt and his hair looked damp too, curling at the ends on his neck.  When he heard her on the kitchen steps, he turned around.  A look crossed his face as he watched her moving into the room.  Delilah looked down at herself in Kevin’s clothes and imagined what Sam might be seeing; a small, frumpy looking lump with hair all over the place.  She laughed, “Sorry, I look like an absolute nightmare.”  Sam gave a shake of his head, tried to speak, but had to clear his throat.

“Uh, not at all.” He turned back to the counter, “I’m making turkey sandwiches, you want one?” he asked her.

“Yeah, turkey sounds great.”

She settled herself on one of the cafeteria style table stools in the kitchen as Sam finished preparing the sandwiches.  He plopped a couple of beers down on the table along with the plates.  They tapped their beers together and took a swig.  Delilah bit into her sandwich ravenously.

A moment later, Kevin wandered into the kitchen, grabbed a power bar out of the cupboard and walked out.  Delilah turned to Sam.  “So what’s that all about?”

Sam frowned, “What?” he asked her confused.

“It just seems to me like Kevin hates this stuff.  Why does he stick around?”

“Oh,” Sam paused, “Kevin’s initiation to all this was… painful.”

Sam proceeded to tell her about the first tablet they found and how it activated Kevin’s prophet powers.  How all his life’s plans and dreams were destroyed one after the other and finally how Crowley had tortured him and killed his mother.  The tablets were all he had left.

Delilah felt sad for Kevin and all he had gone through.  She couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was dealing with.  Just then, he burst back into the kitchen to tell Sam that Crowley was calling him.

Sam left the room, and Kevin and Delilah followed him, waiting in the hallway outside room 7b for news.  Sam came back out and told them what Crowley wanted in return for the translation.

“Seriously? You want to let Crowley communicate with Abaddon?  With everything going on, you want to throw that tag team together into the mix?”  Kevin asked Sam incredulously.

“I don’t think so.  I mean, I don’t trust Crowley, but I don’t see him working with Abaddon.  He hates her too much,” he answered.

Delilah just listened to them arguing in hushed tones.  She leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, pondering how complicated life had gotten in the past 24 hours.  Angels, demons, prophets, God and somehow the Winchesters right in the middle of it all.

“Look, we don’t have to trust him.  He’s bound.  We can end the call whenever we want to. And even if he wanted to give Abaddon information, he has none to give her.  He doesn’t even know where the bunker is,” Sam continued.

Kevin sighed and agreed.  They needed proof that Crowley could read the cuneiform first though.  Kevin left to get some of the translated pages in the library.  Sam turned towards her.

“I don’t think you should go in there with us.  It’s not safe.  Crowley can be pretty nasty, even on a good day.”

“You said he was bound right?” Delilah asked.  Sam nodded. “Well then, if all you’re worried about is a few nasty words, I can handle it.  No big deal.”

“It’s not just that.  Crowley tends to use people to get what he wants, I think you’re safest if he doesn’t know you exist, or your involvement here.”

“I’ll be fine Sam.  Honestly.”

Sam pursed his lips again, but held back from making any more comments.  Kevin came back with the pages.  He and Sam walked into the room, Delilah followed them in but held back a few steps and stopped at the open shelves as she looked into the room where they kept the demon.

He didn’t look as terrifying as she had expected.  Actually, she had no idea what to expect, but the man sitting on a chair at a table looked so normal, it was hard to believe they were making such a fuss.  He was dressed all in black in a suit that looked well lived in.  He had thinning black hair and a salt and pepper, three-day-growth beard, and if it wasn’t for the cold calculating look in his eyes, his quietly sarcastic rumble of a voice, and the shackles, she never would have guessed that he was any kind of a threat.

The room itself gave her pause though.  The front half was just an ordinary storeroom with shelves and boxes, but beyond the shelves, the room took on a sinister look, with shackles dangling from various places on the wall, and a cupboard filled with tools and weapons of all sorts, and not to forget the large pentagram etched directly into the floor, several symbols spread all around, Crowley sitting right at its center.

She watched as Sam tried to get Crowley to translate the symbols on the page.  It seemed he had been telling the truth about being able to read Elamite, how was that even possible?  Elamite had been lost centuries ago.  Kevin looked convinced though because he suddenly surged forward and slammed the rest of the translation in front of him.

“Phone call.  You’ll get the rest when I get paid.”  Crowley’s voice was barely above a whisper.  He was in control and he knew it.  “Now, who’s gonna be a dear and open up a vein?”

Delilah watched as Sam placed a set of syringes on the table in front of Crowley and picked one up, ready to stab himself in the arm.  Crowley insisted it be Kevin though and after some debate he seized the syringe, jabbed himself in a vein and pulled out the stopper, filling the chamber with thick red blood.  She watched in awe as Sam poured the blood into a bowl and Crowley bent low over it and said, “Inferni sectatore, nunc audite regem.”

The king?  What? What was Crowley the king of?  Delilah’s mind raced to keep up with yet more information.  She watched as Crowley spoke into the bowl of blood getting angrier by the minute.  Suddenly, he exploded, “You… Ganky… Putrescent… Skanger!!  You think you can control Hell with chaos alone?  My way works!”

Sam glanced back at Kevin looking incredulous.  He sneaked a look at Delilah too who met his eyes briefly and went back to watching Crowley.  He had calmed down, and he said in a dejected voice, “Your way, will backfire.  You. Will. Burn.”  He pushed the bowl away and slumped in the chair, looking beaten and morose.

“Crowley?” Sam tried to get the demon’s attention.

“Bring me the translations.” Crowley looked right at Sam, “I keep my agreements.”

 

Delilah listened as he read the inscriptions out loud and declared Metatron’s spell irreversible.  She saw Sam’s shoulders sag and the look of disbelief bordering on panic on his face as he and Kevin turned to leave.  Delilah followed them out of the room, turning her back on the trapped demon.

The tablet translated, she figured she probably wasn’t needed anymore, and she needed to get back to her life in Topeka. She followed Sam and Kevin back to the entrance hall, but when they turned to go into the library, she continued through to the kitchen and along the hall down to Dean’s room.  She quickly changed out of Kevin’s clothes and back into her suit from the previous day and gathered up her things.  She folded Kevin’s clothes and straightened out the sheets on Dean’s bed.  She got another whiff of Dean and her strange dream came back to her.  So much information had been thrown at her since yesterday, how did she even begin to process it?  Delilah resolved to widen her research to include angels and demons.  Maybe with more information, she would be able to make sense of it all.

Satisfied that she had figured out her next step, she slung her bag across her shoulders, grabbed the pile of Kevin’s clothes and headed out the door.  In the entrance hall, Sam was talking on the phone, sitting on the corner of the world table.  He smiled at her briefly when he saw her in the doorway.

“No Dean, not this time.  Look, Metatron built the spell to withstand any attempt to reverse it.  There is no putting the angels back in Heaven.  It’s done.”  Sam paused, then added in a quiet, concerned voice, “Are you gonna tell Cas?”  He paused again and then said, “Alright, bye.”  He tapped the end button.  He sat there on the table, passing his hands through his long hair in frustration.

Delilah walked up to him and put the pile of clothes on the table, then she leaned back against the edge next to him.  She put her hand on his arm comfortingly.  Sam turned his head towards her and gave her a half-hearted smile.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help with the Elamite, Sam,” she told him.

“No, you came when you didn’t have to.  Thank you.”

Delilah waved him off.  “Of course I came, you and your brother saved my life.  I’ll always come when you call.” Sam looked her in the eyes without saying a word.  They were an eerie shade of blue-green in the light from the table.  Some of his hair had fallen forward onto his forehead, and Delilah reached up to tuck it back with the rest. “So, Castiel, the one who’s not really a hunter, he’s an angel right?” Sam looked down at his hands.

“Yeah, although he lost his Grace.  Metatron used it in the spell that expelled all of the angels from Heaven.”

“What does that mean, he lost his Grace?” she asked, trying to understand more.

“Well, basically it makes him human.   Dean doesn’t talk about it much, but he’s worried about him being out there on his own.  There are so many things he’s never had to deal with before,”  Sam said.

“Why doesn’t he come here?  You guys have the room.”

Sam sighed before he answered.  “We got him here after the angels fell, but for some reason, he felt he would bring trouble and he decided to leave.  We barely hear from him.  And with the angels after him…”

“Why are the angels after him?” she asked.

“They blame him for the fall.  They think he plotted with Metatron to expel the angels, so now they want revenge.”  Delilah pondered this quietly for a while.  Sam interrupted her thoughts, “So, I guess this means you’re taking off?”  Delilah glanced down at her wrinkled outfit.

“Yeah, I’m not really prepared for a long trip, and I can’t miss work again tomorrow.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.  I’ll drop you off at your car.”

“Thanks Sam.”

Sam grabbed his jacket from the chair and slipped his arms into the sleeves.  They made their way up the stairs and left the building.  They drove silently back to the café where the Rust Bucket was waiting.

Sam and Delilah got out of the Charger and made their way over to Delilah’s Tercel.

Sam leaned down and wrapped her in a bear hug.  Delilah hugged him back - hugging Sam was like trying to hug a mountain.  She stepped away and took a good look at him.  He looked absolutely exhausted.  She was tired too, but Sam looked ready to drop and not get up again for a few days.  Delilah reached up and pressed her palm against his cheek.

“You should get some rest, you look like hell.”

Sam looked at her, frozen for the moment.  Then, Delilah dropped her hand and stepped away.  Sam thanked her again for her help.  Delilah smiled, got into her car and drove away.

Nothing but three hours of road ahead of her, Delilah’s mind started the insurmountable task of sorting through the information; angels and demons, Heaven and Hell, God and Winchesters.

 

_Later in the evening as you lie awake in bed_

_With the echoes from the amplifiers ringin' in your head_

_You smoke the day's last cigarette, remembering what she said_

_Here I am, on a road again_

_There I am, on the stage, yeah_

_Here I go, playing star again_

_There I go, there I go_


End file.
